


500 words/Late Night in the Daylight Cafe

by mimikutie



Category: Original Work
Genre: 500 word max, more from cw class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 05:31:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19692097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimikutie/pseuds/mimikutie
Summary: An all night cafe's barista has to serve her celebrity crush.





	500 words/Late Night in the Daylight Cafe

The bell at the entry was still broken, so it clattered dully on the door as it swung. Marcy felt the heat from the buzzing streetlamp outside for a moment. Marcy enjoyed late-night shifts at Daylight books. A demure night owl whose wide lensed gaze studied her midnight locals in the sketchbook hidden under the counter. The crowds were thin this late at night, almost 11:45 now.

It was surreal to see the woman in full motion, how her arms swung at her sides and how exactly she put one foot before the other. Marcy could line the woman over the portrait displayed at the top of her website. She was on it constantly, how could she forget it. Dana Heartrand, photographic guru, personal inspiration, here in her store. Marcy’s heart nearly blew out when she began to shuffle through her pockets for cash, approaching her counter. Her voice was quiet, parched with drowsiness, not the sound she expected from the bold visionary she envisioned. “Dirty chai, medium, to go please?” Marcy forced her mind into working and squeaked out a blandly pleasant “sure! it’ll be out at the end of the table.” Did she notice how freaked out she was? Did she know that she knew her? She wasn’t a household name exactly, not yet. No one else was here to be awed, she had to draw her. At first, it was an accident. Her mind was in a whirl to take in the folds of her dress, the line of her shoes, as she watched her beneath her glasses frame, and she forgot the shot of espresso. Dana sipped curiously on the cup of (now plain) chai and frowned in confusion.

She realized her mistake as she was making it but was so caught in the line of her mouth. How her face twitched with muted expression. She wondered if she was as shy as she was. Dana was apologetic when she asked if “maybe there’s been a mix up? Are you sure this is dirty?” Marcy apologized, lied that the espresso would need time to warm up and sketched as fast as her hand could go. How perfect the light was, the way she sat was elegant, the pose of a person settled in their loneliness. She hoped to capture her, exactly how she was in that moment, dutifully collect her story. This time she gave her a dirty chai and a chocolate biscotti. She looked confused again, but Marcy spoke as fast as her words could trip over each other. “On the house. Sorry for the mix-up.” She smiled crookedly, and when Dana smiled back at her she was nearly overcome. “Thank you so much!” she was so genuine. And Marcy was left with her returned cup of chai. The lipstick stain on the plastic lid was still there, assurance in her reality. She brought the cup to her own lips. She wished it was the real thing, but it was sweet, so sweet and honest.

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to have a lot more lesbian energies than i expected and I'm very glad. For this prompt we had to do exactly 500 words.


End file.
